


Heir, Seer, Knight, Witch

by Stripe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Illustrated, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:44:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stripe/pseuds/Stripe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a boy named John Egbert, on the cusp of his 18th birthday and heir to the Prospit crown. </p><p>His three best friends are a seer, a knight, and a witch, and they are the three last people that his court advisers want him to trust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dave, The Witch Slayer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! I've wanted to write a longer, self-indulgent Beta OT4 AU for a while now, and this is me finally getting around to doing that. 
> 
> I don't know how long this will be or necessarily everything that will end up happening, but I have a vague road map and some world-building notes that I'm following for now, and we'll see where that takes us.
> 
> Chapters are purposefully light on editing/revisions because I don't want to get bogged down in making things perfect and not finish; the same goes for the illustrations. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It's mid-day when Dave arrives at the village, the sun glinting off of his armor, and he keeps the visor on his helmet down to shield his eyes from the glaring light. It’s not a big place; only a small assortment of buildings, and if he had to guess, he’d say that the animals here outnumbered the people. Hardly the bustling city he’d rode out from this morning. He dismounts his horse and before he has time to get his bearings, somebody’s approaching him. He’s a tall, nervous-looking man who wrings his hands together as he talks, but Dave takes him to be the town head, based on his clothes.

"Ah, sir knight - the palace sent you, didn't it? To deal with our... problem?"

It's all Dave can do to keep from rolling his eyes. But he's supposed to be professional when dealing with citizens, isn't he? "Yeah- we got your bird this morning. A witch, right?"

"Yes! She took control of our apple orchards last night. We tried to chase her out, but she seemed quite powerful. She floated right before us!"

"Mm hmm. And let me guess - she had long, black hair and glowing green eyes?"

The village head looks surprised. "Yes - that's precisely it! How did you know?"

"Let's just say I'm well-acquainted with witches," Dave says. "So- your apple orchards, right? Where are those?"

"They're on the other side of the village, just down this road," the man replies, pointing. "Are there any supplies you need, sir knight?"

"Just call me Strider, please. And no, I think I'm good. Just need someone to take care of my horse while I deal with the witch." 

The head seems taken aback. "Are you sure, si- Strider? I would be happy to offer some of our villagers as back up. We don't have any soldiers, but we have a few able-bodied men at the very least-"

"No, trust me. It's better if I do this alone." Dave pats his side, where his sword is sheathed. "Got my sword, got my armor, got a few years experience dealing with witches specifically. All you guys gotta do is sit back and feed my horse a few sugar cubes. She's earned it." 

"Well- we do have some very nice stables..."

"Perfect. So just point me down the path and I'll get rid of your witch problem in no time. Just tell your village to relax."

The village head points a shaking finger down the path, and after making sure that his horse is safe with the stable boys, Dave starts his way down to the apple orchard. Unsurprisingly, the way there is practically devoid of life. People are scared by witches, who brim with so much magical talent that they could kill anybody with the flick of the wrist. If there’s even the slightest hint that one might be in the nearby area, everybody else hides. It’s the natural order of things. 

Dave is the exception. He had, according to rumor, single-handedly dealt with every witch-incident that had popped up in Prospit over the past three years, and earned himself knighthood and the title of the “Witch Slayer” in the process. The rumor is mostly true - Dave Strider had indeed been sent to take care of every witch in the past three years, and he had always returned successful.

Then again, he might have had a little help.

As soon as he finds the apple trees, Dave takes off his helmet, squints at the sudden onslaught of light, and then calls out- “Jade? You’re here somewhere, right?”

On cue, a young woman materializes on the branch of a nearby tree, grinning broadly, green eyes alight. “Hi, Dave!”

He turns at the sound of her voice. Jade looks the same as ever, dark hair tangled and unruly, skirts torn and dirty at the bottom. Healthy, happy. “There you are. An apple orchard this time, though? You trying to spoil me?”

“Maybe!” Jade drifts down from the branch to land delicately in front of him, and she presses an apple into his hand. “I mean, I knew they were going to send you if they caught me taking food. So I should try and make your trip out here worthwhile, right?”

“Well hot damn, that's about the most considerate thing anyone's ever done for me," Dave says, and he takes a big, greedy bite into his apple. Jade laughs.

"Hey, mister knight, aren't you technically stealing Prospit property there?" she asks, nibbling at her own apple and leaning back against the tree she’d come from. Dave rolls his eyes.

"Like I give a damn about Prospit property. Like, sure, I may live in their tacky gold castle and everything, but my heart's still pumping good ol' Dersite blood.” He taps his knuckles against his chest plate to demonstrate. “Can't change that."

"But you're still loyal to the Prospitian crown!"

"I'm loyal to John. There's a difference." There's a harsh cracking sound as he takes another bite of apple. "Anyways, it's not like anyone's here to see. I'll just tell them you ate it."

"Rude!" Still, Jade's laughing. "Though what's one more apple against my name, right?"

"Yeah, exactly." Dave's mouth twists a little bit, not quite able to match her smile. They finish their apples in silence, Dave tossing the core casually over his shoulder. Jade vanishes hers out of existence. 

"I still don't understand why you gotta steal food from unsuspecting villages when you've got your witchy magic powers," Dave comments. "Can't you just, like, conjure yourself up an apple or something?"

"That's not how it works, Dave! I mean- yes, technically I _could_ conjure an apple but the effort it would take to do that would mean that I'd need to eat at least two apples to make up for it! I can't just do things for free like that."

"What's even the point of having magic then?" he asks. "Like, if you can't just basically be a god and do whatever the fuck you want."

"I don't think having magic has a _point_ , Dave," Jade says. She's still smiling at him, however, and she delicately floats closer to him, feet hovering a few inches off the ground so that she's perfectly eye level with him. "So what's the story today, then, mister knight? Did you kill me, or did I just run away?"

Dave tries to keep his cool, even though Jade's face is dangerously close to his right now. Sparks of magic dance behind her eyes. "Just ran away, I think," he says evenly. “You put up a big fight and all, but I was too much for you in the end. Before I could strike the final blow, you narrowly escaped, hightailing it out of here while shaking an angry witchy fist at me, saying you’d be back.”

“An angry witchy fist, huh?” Jade asks, biting back another grin.

“Angriest witchy fist. Only a talented witch slayer like me’s got any hope of surviving it.”

Jade makes a face at that, drifting a few inches back from him. “I swear that is the _stupidest_ title they could have given you.”

“Hey, better me than some other loser, right?” He carefully reaches out, pats her shoulder awkwardly. “Like, I’m not actually out to kill you, I just sort of drop by every now and then and make a show of being valiant and shit, and you get to stay safe. I’ll take a shitty title if it comes with that sort of power.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I _guess_.” 

“Besides, you gotta admit you love dragging me out to random villages in assfuck nowhere.”

“That’s true!” And Jade’s smiling again, just a little, allowing Dave to relax. “So what are we going to do to make it look like you suffered a really big battle? Can I destroy some of your armor again?”

“The guys at the armory are gonna put a ransom on your head at this rate, you know.”

“What else is new?”

 

She singes his chest plate and cracks one of his pauldrons, which seems to be enough to convince the town people of his victory when he returns. Dave accepts their thanks with empty gratitude before hopping on his horse again and making the half-a-day journey back to the castle, sun setting behind him as he rides. 

Dave would be hard-pressed to admit it, but he finds that there’s something comforting in seeing the golden spires of the Prospit Palace, growing closer and more impressive as he rides through the capital, until he has to look straight up to see them properly. This is his home now, as it has been for more than half a decade. 

Everybody he cares about is here. Almost.

He doesn’t bother stripping out of his sort-of ruined armor as he walks inside - he’d rather deal with it in his room, figuring he can bring it into the armory properly tomorrow. The only piece he bothers removing is his helmet. The sun’s set by now, candles lighting the hallways as he walks back to his corridors, making it dim enough that the visor is a hindrance more than a help. 

He’s not honestly expecting anybody to care to stop him, which of course means that that is precisely what happens.

“Dave! You’re back!”

Dave turns to see who’s calling to him, even if he would know that voice anywhere. John Egbert, heir to the throne, dressed down from whatever royal duties he’d been forced to sit through that day. He looks happy, though, wearing the kind of easy, buck-toothed smile that only John Egbert is really capable of. 

“Good evening, your majesty,” Dave says, and while the words are proper, his tone is anything but, mocking the title in a way that most royalty would take offense. He adds a curtsy just to top it off.

John just rolls his eyes, walking over and catching Dave in a quick hug. “So how’d your trip go?” he asks. Then, poking at the singed armor - “Looks like you got in a bit of trouble. Did you insult Jade’s dress or something?”

“Had to make it convincing, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah.” They’ve started walking again; apparently John’s intending to lead Dave back to his room. Dave’s lips quirk as he considers how backwards this is. Shouldn’t he be the one ensuring the prince makes it back to his quarters safely? John sighs. “I just wish you didn’t have to keep up this stupid act.”

“Well, it’s either I do it or somebody who’s not- experienced with her like I am goes.” Dave makes an attempt to be subtle, but there’s nobody around to hear them right now. He does a quick check of the hallway before adding, “Like, someone who’d actually kill her.”

“Yeah, but I wish that she could just- you know, live here. Like she used to.”

“You know that’s not going to fly, John. We’ve talked about this like fifty times now. She’s way too magical - like, yeah, she’s Jade so she’s harmless and all, but not everyone knows that. It’s just not feasible.”

John lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, when _I’m_ king-”

“Yeah, everybody will love each other and we’ll all get to hold hands and wear flower crowns and live in peace and harmony for the rest of our days.” Dave makes no attempt to make the sarcasm in his tone. John gently shoves him.

“I’m just saying, when I’m king, maybe I can convince people that it’s alright to let somebody who’s done _nothing wrong_ to stay in the castle!”

“How do you know she’s done nothing wrong?” Dave counters. 

John looks taken aback, giving him a dumb stare. “What?”

“You haven’t been able to see her in- what, five years now? You don’t know if she’s changed or not.”

“I- I mean, she’s _Jade_ ,” John stutters, suddenly not meeting Dave’s eyes. “She can’t have changed that much. And… and besides, you’re still protecting her, aren’t you? So she can’t have done anything too bad.”

“Well, sure.” Dave sighs, and the two of him stop in front of the door to his room. “Though for now, I just say we focus on getting you to actually being king. Still got your big birthday party to plan for and everything.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” John pulls a face. “I don’t even want to think about how much cake my dad’s going to end up making for the party.”

“Just make sure to save an apple pie for me.”

“Of course.” John’s smiling again, and he looks as though he’s about to leave Dave be for the night. However, just as he turns, something seems to occur to him. “Oh, yeah, before I forget! Rose is doing a reading tomorrow. She told me to tell you.”

Dave translates this to “Rose will want to see you tonight,” and figures he should give up on the hope of a good night’s rest. “Sounds like fun. Entire kingdom going to crowd around her to see her smoke black flames and stuff.”

“This one’s supposed to be more private. Just me, my dad, and the counsel. Oh, and a few bodyguards. You’re probably going to be put on duty since, you know.” He makes a vague hand motion and leaves it there. 

“Yeah, I know.” Dave sighs. “Anyways, you should get back to your princely chambers or whatever. Get some sleep.” 

“Yeah, you too!” John says, grinning and waving as he finally walks back down the hall. Dave continues to watch him until he’s out of sight, then steps into his room. 

He doesn’t stay there long. He only lingers as long as it takes to remove his armor and set it properly aside, then change into lighter, non-armored clothes that don’t stink of a full day’s ride. He takes a brief stop by his mirror to run a hand through his Derse-blonde hair, to make sure it doesn’t look too much like a bird’s nest after spending most of the day under a helmet, though as usual it’s a mostly futile effort. And with that, he’s out the door, only a sword at his side, just in case.

Dave always marvels a bit at how light he feels when he’s in normal clothes like this, how quickly he’s able to move. He’s certainly not slow when he’s fully decked out in armor - he’d be useless as a knight if he were - but as he is now, he feels as though he can practically glide down the hallways, and he certainly makes no move to slow himself as he heads to Rose’s chambers. 

Rose lives in a very secluded part of the castle grounds, as is typical of any seer - the magic she wields, while deemed necessary for the stability of the kingdom, is too dangerous to allow her to sleep close to anybody or anything important. Because of this, she’s been given a small tower off in the western corner of the grounds, near the stables. 

It’s a slap in the face to her honor, which everybody is aware of. Rose has confided that she honestly doesn’t mind the seclusion - it allows her quietly to read her books - but she’d never tell that to the court. She’s mastered the art of passive aggression, continually dropping hints at her dissatisfaction with her living quarters to ensure they would attempt to keep her pacified with more possessions. 

It works. Rose Lalonde is undoubtedly the best-dressed woman in the kindgom of Prospit. 

Yet that doesn’t show when she opens the door to him, as always perfectly predicting his arrival. She’s dressed down for the night, wearing only a thin night gown that might have scandalized better men. Dave’s hardly fazed. 

“Still a little chilly out for that, don’t you think?” he remarks, rather than greeting her. Rose’s painted lips quirk into a smile.

“Oh, I think not. Not with the number of candles I have burning in my room; it’s practically a sauna. You might see fit to remove articles of clothing yourself.” He cocks an eyebrow, but Rose steps aside, motioning him in. “I take it your witch hunt went well?”

“Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “Jade apparently decided she was running low on apples, so she stopped by an apple orchard.”

“Hmm. And I take it you were pleased by her decision?”

“You know it.”

Rose laughs, leading him up a small set of spiral stairs to her bedroom. Sure enough, the place brightly lit, and the heady perfume of scented candles immediately hits his senses. 

“Weren’t joking about the candles,” he comments.

“You know how it is,” she murmurs, sliding onto her bed. “I need something to keep the monsters at bay ‘til morning, don’t I?”

“Keep them firmly under your bed where they belong?” he teases.

“Under the bed and in the closet, yes. I can’t risk having a tentacled appendage slip out in the middle of the night, now can I?” Somehow, it seems like less of a joke when she says it. 

“Well, I got my sword and all, so the monsters are gonna stay scared off. I am a ferocious knight, you know. They’d be dumb to come out when Strider’s around.”

Rose smiles, and pats the space next to her on the bed. “Sit down, would you? I’d like to talk.”


	2. Rose, The Dark Seer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the horrorterrors, in some sense of the word. I won't pretend that they are strictly accurate to the form they take in Homestuck canon, but they serve a purpose.

To his credit, Dave doesn’t hesitate for a moment before sitting next to Rose. There aren’t many people in the palace who would so casually choose to sit with her, but Dave’s never been among them. Perhaps it is their shared status as outsiders - perhaps something else - but being around Dave has always been easier, whatever the reason.

“What do you want to talk about?” he asks, peering at her through the corners of his eyes. “Something big going down that I got to know about?”

“No, nothing quite like that,” she assures him. “At least, not that I’m aware of. I’ll know more tomorrow morning, I suspect.”

“Yeah, when you do your crazy demon magic thing?”

Rose rolls her eyes at him. “I recall asking you to stop calling it that.”

“Dark, sinister, tentacle magics?”

“Don’t make me curse you, Strider.”

Dave lets out a quick “snerk” of laughter, clearly not intimidated. “I thought you didn’t do curses,” he says.

“Oh, but for you, I would gladly make an exception,” she responds fondly. “Perhaps one in which every time you spoke, you would randomly interject the sound of a horse letting out a gaseous expulsion?”

“Are you threatening me with horse farts, Lalonde?”

“Would you prefer pig farts?”

And he laughs properly at that. “Hell yes, pigs over horses any day. Don't give me any of that whinnying crap; if you're gonna curse me, do it right." A pause. "But seriously, are you ready for tomorrow? I know they don't really take into account how much it takes out of you." 

"They certainly don't." Rose lets out a heavy sigh, adjusting her posture. "They've been asking me to do these readings more frequently as of late. It's nothing I can't handle, for now, but it does inflict a special sort of strain. I hadn't quite shaken off the exhaustion from the last reading, and now they have me preparing for another one."

Dave looks concerned - it admittedly isn't a big change in his expression, but years of knowing him has allowed Rose to pick up on the nuances. The small crease in his brow, the way his lips quirk downward just a bit more. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Only the usual - keep me company so I can stay awake.” 

It’s one of the more draining things about doing readings; in order to tell specifics about the far future, Rose is forced to open herself to the Dark Ones. In order to do that, she has to break down the boundaries of her own mind, so that They can enter and whisper the secrets she needs to know. Part of that involves magic, simply allowing their power to be channeled through hers, but another part of it means breaking herself down - no sleep the night before, no food, and minimal water. 

In the words of her old tutor, she had to view herself as a vessel. The more energy she drained from herself, the more room They would have once she summoned Them. Rose had always hated that metaphor, as though she were reducing her existence to a particularly gifted vase, but she couldn’t deny its accuracy in some regards.

Rose has tried explaining the intricacies to Dave, but she thinks he might be the least magical person that she knows; he’s never been able to quite grasp it. Still, he understands the basics - that she needs to stay awake - and he has always been happy to help her with that. 

“So what kind of company do you want me to keep?” he asks. “I can recite poems at you again. Bring you back up to speed with my lyrical mastery, have you swooning over-”

“Just talk, _please_ ,” Rose interjects. “Not that I don’t enjoy your poetry, but I’m in no state to engage you in proper wordplay.”

He scoffs. “Fine, I see how it is. Don’t want to hear my sick rhymes unless you can try and one-up me at it.”

“Precisely.” She smiles, leaning back and smoothing out her sheets. “Tell me how your day went. You met up with Jade in the apple orchard, as you mentioned, but how was the rest? Did Maplehoof handle the ride well?”

“‘Course she did, best horse in the whole of Prospit…”

They talk like this for hours - simply chatting about recent affairs. They recount each one of the girls that John has turned down as a potential marriage prospect, argue over which adviser has the facial hair that most resembles a dead rat, and reminisce over all the ways Derse is clearly the better kingdom.

Yet as hard as he tries, Dave isn’t up to the task of staying up all night - not after a day mostly spent out on the road. As Rose lists off the details of her favorite known witches and wizards from history, his eyelids start to droop and his head nods forward. She can’t help but smile. It’s still dark, but he has tried his best to keep her company, and there’s always something endearing about seeing the knight when he doesn’t have all of his usual barriers up. She can’t fault him for needing to sleep when she can’t.

Not that she can resist teasing him, just a bit.

“Am I boring you?” she asks softly, not wanting to speak too loudly.

“Wha?” he asks. “Hm- no, ‘course-” The next word is swallowed by a yawn and he has to restart. “‘Course not.”

“Yes, I know how much you love hearing about my wizards. Come now, let’s tuck you into bed.” 

Dave opens his mouth, as though to protest, but all that comes out is yet another yawn, and as she pulls away the covers for him, he’s quick to climb under them. Rose tucks him in properly, just as promised - the least she can do, really.

She considers, just for a moment, offering him a good night kiss, but her heart flutters oddly at the thought of it, and so she allows Dave to drift off in silence instead, watching his face soften. He looks younger when he sleeps - looks like the eighteen-year-old he really is rather than the adult he tries so hard to be. Rose wonders if the same is true of her. 

She carefully slips off of the bed so as not to disturb him and instead busies herself about her room, relighting the candles that have gone out, moving a few misplaced tomes. It’s then that she notices the faint, green glow from the gem she leaves on her bedside table. She smiles faintly; the gem was a gift from Jade, a way for the two of them to keep in contact despite Rose frequently being stuck at the castle. It’s a curious artifact, yet sadly unusable to anybody without a fair bit of magic, barring both John and Dave from using it. 

Still, it is rare when Rose can see Jade in person. Having this is better than nothing.

Cradling the gem to her chest, Rose carefully descends down to the first floor, not wanting to wake Dave with whatever conversation she might have. She lights a few extra candles, just to be sure the dim lighting won’t lull her to sleep, then settles down in a chair. With a quick pulse of magic, she activates the stone, then speaks into it.

“You’re up rather late tonight, Jade,” she remarks. “Is something troubling you?”

There’s a bit of shuffling on the other end before Jade’s voice finally pops in, enthusiastic as ever. “Up early more like it!” she says. “I sort of crashed after I got back from talking to Dave, and when I woke up it was dark!”

“I do often worry about your sleep schedule, secluded in your tower as you are. Why, what is to stop you from becoming permanently nocturnal?”

“Bad eyesight?” Jade offers, followed by a giggle. “But why are _you_ up so late, Rose? I thought you needed your beauty sleep!”

“Do you mean to imply that I become a hideous hag when I haven’t gotten my proper amount of sleep in?” 

“No! You are gorgeous no matter what, stop being silly Rose,” Jade says. Rose can hear a bit of shifting on Jade’s end, and imagines that Jade is probably lying on her bed now, with her own gem lying on her chest. “But I know for a fact,” she continues, “that you like sleeping so you can be extra, super-gorgeous! You have told me that.”

“Yes. It is rather amusing to see court advisors struggle with their distrust of me and their inability to tear their eyes from an attractive young women.”

“Exactly! So why aren’t you sleeping to continue their torment?” 

Rose lets out a sigh - she knows she can’t hide this from Jade for much longer. Might as well come out with it. “I’m to do another reading tomorrow morning. Naturally, that means no sleep the night before.”

“Rose!” There’s more shuffling on the other end - Jade moving around frantically, most likely, though what exactly she’s up to is unclear. “That’s not good! Readings are really dangerous!”

“I’m well aware of the hazardous nature of my occupation, Jade. You don’t need to remind me.” 

“But you’re doing too many of them! And I’ve read the books you leant me, and you know that it’s really dangerous to let Them take control of you! What if They refuse to leave?”

Rose rubs her temples - at the very least, Jade’s yelling will keep her awake. “Again, I am aware of this. I am taking every precaution possible. But the kingdom is in a delicate state, and the court is desperate for any advantage they can get. I’m among those advantages.”

“You should just tell them you don’t want to do it,” Jade tells her, quieting some. “Or ask them to give you a few more days.”

“It doesn’t take a seer’s intuition to know that will only make them distrust me even more,” Rose says. “And distrusting me means they may decide to have me killed, should the fancy strike them. I’m surrounded by a number of highly skilled knights who, at any point, could be turned against me. You remember the stories of the Signless, don’t you?”

Jade’s quiet for a moment, and Rose can almost see her - curled up on her bed, gnawing on her lower lip with her over-sized buck teeth. “I guess you know best,” she admits finally. “But just be careful, OK! And if you ever feel like you are in danger, get Dave to sneak you away. There’s room for you in my tower!”

“I appreciate the offer,” Rose says, smiling. “I will be sure to keep it in mind; I promise.”

The conversation drifts off to easier topics, then - how ridiculous Dave's attempts at poetry are, or what sort of animal would best suit Jade as a pet. Rose insists as usual that a cat is the perfect companion to any witch, whereas Jade insists upon wanting a dog. As always, it comes to a standstill, simply because Jade is going to have tough luck finding a domestic animal without stealing it. 

Finally, the first hints of sunlight begin to peek in through Rose’s windows - a sign that she needs to begin getting ready. She wishes Jade a quick goodbye before returning upstairs, slowly extinguishing candles as she goes. No need to worry about falling asleep anymore, though admittedly the desire to curl up under her covers is there when she sees Dave still slumbering away.

Rose rouses him, shaking his shoulder, causing the knight to sit up in alarm. He blinks wildly around the room before remembering where he is and giving her a sheepish look. "Did I fall asleep on you again?"

"You didn't fall asleep _on_ me again, but yes. You started to nod off in the middle of our riveting conversation on the nuances of Frigglish’s forbidden tomes - I figured I should let you sleep."

"Sorry," he mumbles, followed by a yawn. "Didn't mean to."

"It's quite alright; I talked to Jade instead. Besides, you need the rest if you're to be on duty today after a full day of riding."

Another yawn. "Still feel exhausted, though."

"The feeling is mutual," Rose quips. "But both of us need to get dressed, and I don't happen to have another set of knight's armor lying around my home. I'd suggest you get back and make yourself decent."

"Yeah, yeah." He slides out of her bed and stretches, shirt riding up a bit. Rose's gaze is immediately drawn to the bit of bare skin he reveals under his shirt, and she doesn't bother pretending otherwise. Dave is too tired to notice. “See you in a couple of hours, I guess?”

“Yes, assuming all goes according to plan.” Rose ushers him downstairs, shooing him out the door. “Now off with you.” She watches him saunter off past the stables, leaning against the doorframe and squinting into the morning light until he rounds a corner, out of sight. Even then, she waits just a few more minutes, as though this will prolong the time until a pair of guards are sent for her, but finally she retreats back to her tower to get ready.

She slips out of the nightgown first, changing into the thick, heavy cloak of a seer. She wears long sleeves and covers her hands, so that nobody can come in skin-to-skin contact with her while she’s possessed, but she keeps the hood of her cloak down for now. She feels as though if she were to allow herself any sort of dark space, she might simply drop dead asleep.

The rest of the preparation comes in collecting the proper magical talismans and artifacts, though it doesn’t take long long, as they’re still gathered in one spot from last time. Strictly speaking, they aren’t necessary for her to carry out a reading. Rose can already hear the whispers of the Dark Ones at the back of her mind, and should she fancy it, she knows she could fall into a proper trance at any point. But it would be beyond reckless, and though the temptation is admittedly there some days, every bit of her Sight tells her it would only lead to her very swift and immediate death.

She attaches all of the ones that are proper articles of clothing - a necklace, a few bracelets, a set of rings and a single anklet - and stores the rest in the sleeves of her robes, to be set out for the ritual itself.

She raises her hood right before the guards arrive and preemptively opens the door before they have a chance to knock. It always throws them off, those little demonstrations of her foresight, and as she glances up from beneath her hood, she can see just a bit of fear in their eyes.

Good.

No words are exchanged as they lead her into the castle, one on either side, and it’s very clear to Rose that the guards are not meant for her, but rather to protect everyone else from her. She doesn’t see any of the other castle staff as they pass, and she’s left with the image of mice, scurrying out of the way as a cat stalks through the kitchen.

Before long, they’re led to a small, private chamber which has been set up for this kind of thing. Standing at the entrance is Dave, who gives her an almost imperceptible nod as they walk by. The rest of the room is filled with assorted court advisers - older aristocrats who, for the most part, managed to buy their way into their positions - and then the prince and the king himself. 

John is dressed for the occasion - which is to say they got him to wear his prince’s crown and wear a few embellishments that he’d otherwise forgo. He gives a small little smile and wave as Rose walks past, and it thaws her just enough to quirk her lips back at him from under her hood.

His father, the king, is sitting next to him. Rose has had few opportunities to speak with the man personally, but he’s always given off a powerful impression - regal and fatherly. It doesn’t match up with the stories that John has told her, about how he’d throw pies in his face or lecture him in the art of humorous disguises, and were John not so adamant about his annoyance, she would have suspected she was being lied to. To her, the king has been nothing but professional. 

Rose takes her seat at the back end of the room, where a specific area has been cleared out for her - large enough to make sure that nobody has to be anywhere near her. She’s silent as she settles in, unpacking the other items from her sleeves, setting them in their proper places - a small painted gold box to her left and a matching purple one to her right. A small bowl gets placed before her. Nobody says a word.

Finally she looks up. “So I heard you wanted to see me?” She makes an attempt to hide some of the malice in her voice, but it still comes out cold; she doesn’t want to give them any impression that she is happy to be here. 

To his credit, the king doesn’t allow his advisers to speak on his behalf. “Thank you for coming, Rose,” he says. “We need your guidance again.”

“So I had gathered,” she replies coolly. “And what, might I ask, were you hoping I might See for you today?”

The king slaps his son on the shoulder, and John looks as though he might collapse from the force of it. “My son’s future,” the king replies. “He’ll be a fully grown man soon. I want to make sure everything is done to guarantee him a bright future.”

Rose looks to John then, who looks as though he’s about to crawl out of his skin from embarrassment. She smiles. A reading for the kingdom sounds onerous, but John is a dear friend. Surely it isn’t such a task to ensure his safety. “Very well,” she says, voice softer. “Then I’ll begin.”

She tugs her hood down a little further over her face before she begins, then finally allows her mind to wander. The voices that had been present in the back of her mind for the entirety of the night finally come into focus as she lets Them in, whispering dread into her ears, sending chill through her veins. Her mouth is moving of its own accord, speaking an ancient tongue that only she knows to decipher - despite the court’s presence in the room, she’ll be the one translating in the end. 

It’s mostly gibberish.

_**the kingdom will fall to ruin in blood and ash,**_ They tell her, as They’ve always told her. _**the world will be swallowed whole and all life extinguished.**_

It’s not that the words don’t have meaning, but They are always quick to jump to the end of all things, and Rose has it on good authority that the end will not be coming for quite a long time. They have never been good at understanding a mortal timeline.

_”John,”_ she forces herself to say, though it comes out screeched and garbled. _”Tell me about John.”_

_**the prince he will die and his bones will turn to dust and be scattered among the wind just like all the rest just like everything-**_

_”Tell me about his life,”_ she forces out, frustrated. Of course he would die, one day. They had already reminded her of that.

They cooperate this time, though the answer is in images rather than words, flashing by so quickly she can’t make sense of them. Even taking into account Their propensity for death, it’s not a bright future - John lying bloodied and bruised, John crying, John about to be executed under a purple banner. Her breath catches in her throat as her heart races - she has to save him. 

_”No, no, no. Not John. I must stop this. What can I do to stop it?”_ She’s shouting gibberish at the king and his council right now, she knows, but this is too important to care about appearances. John is too important.

_**let us in let us help you we can help you we will save him for you**_

And for a moment, she can almost forget her training. She can almost forget all the dire warnings about ceding control. She can almost allow the inky blackness to seep in, just to let him live... It would be so easy, all she has to do is let her guard down and he’d be safe...

Rose can feel Their consciousness beginning taking root within her, and that’s what it takes to pull her back to her senses. 

_”No!”_ Rose musters up every last bit of energy, and imagines a cleansing wave flooding through her body, forcing Them out of her. _”Leave!”_

And so they do, in a rush, leaving her light-headed and feeling much like the empty vessel her teacher had always told her to be - like a fragile vase, teetering on the edge of a table, just about to fall…

Rose blacks out before she hits the ground, yet somehow she feels warm.


	3. John, The Prospitian Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I'm sorry this chapter took so long! My Jadefest entry took priority in writing for a little bit, and then I just had a few weeks of being super busy. But look, a 4/13 update!
> 
> Happy Homestuck everybody!

A heavy silence falls over the room as Rose’s unholy screeching comes to a halt, and all eyes fall to John Egbert. Just as Rose started to topple forward, he had rushed to catch her, and now the heir to the Prospit throne is cradling the seer in his arms. It’s dangerous to be in such close contact with somebody who had just channeled the Dark Ones, even with her skin properly covered, and when sound does seep back into the room, it is in the form of muffled whispers from the watching advisers. 

John, however, pays none of this any mind, instead looking Rose over. Gray seeps from her skin - a sign of Them releasing Their temporary control - but she still shows no signs of stirring. John has been to a number of these readings in the past, as part of his preparation for being king one day, but he’d never seen anything like this before. Not with Rose or her predecessor. Usually, Rose would close her eyes, turn gray, and maybe mutter a few things in that odd language that only she could understand. But she'd always open her eyes and relate whatever she had said back to them, then tiredly slump out of the room while the advisers discussed it in length.

Today had started normally, but then her face had twisted and she had started shouting in that language, so loudly that John had heard her voice crack. And then she'd fallen, and now she's unconscious, and it's only years of warnings of avoiding touching the skin of a seer that keep him from feeling for a pulse.

"Rose?" he asks gently, trying to ignore the eyes of the council that are undoubtedly focused on him right now. "Rose, hey. C'mon, wake up." He shakes her gently, but there's still no response.

"Son," comes his father's stern voice, from behind him. "Set her down."

John's mouth twists into a frown, and he turns as far as he can without displacing Rose from his arms. "No! She's my friend- I want to make sure she's alright!"

"We can bring in some healers," his father promises, but just as John's about to retort that that isn't good enough, Rose groans and her eyes slowly open. It takes a few moments for her to focus on him properly, and when she does, she frowns.

"John?" she croaks out, voice hoarse. "What are you-" 

Quite suddenly, Rose seems to realize the position they're in and she pulls away from him very quickly. John lets her go, though he's careful and at the ready should she slump forward again. She gently raises a hand to her forehead, cringing, and John's pretty sure she must have a headache after all of that, but she stays upright this time. 

There's silence again, nobody sure what to make of the situation. When it's finally broken, it's by John's father, who asks - "What did you see?"

Rose takes in a slow, shuddering breath and then lets it out. “Nothing- nothing good, I’m afraid,” she says slowly, her eyes darting to John. His heart rate kicks up a notch - it's not an unusual side effect of Rose looking at him, but there's a bit of worry behind it this time. She had been doing a reading about him, after all. What could be so bad about his future to get a reaction like that out of her?

His father's voice, however, remains firm. "We still need to know," he says. "In case there is anything that can be done to stop it."

A heavy sigh. "As I've warned your council time and time again, to outright change the future is quite the task. It is not always possible. Some things are... simply meant to happen." 

"Rose," says his father, and the seer jumps a little at the sounds of her own name. "Please just tell us."

Rose bites her lower lip, looking to John again, before she finally speaks. "I saw the prince captured," she says softly. "And beaten, imprisoned. He was about to be executed, but... I could not keep the connection for long enough to see the execution itself."

The council erupts into muttering and whispering, but John sits stock still, an odd ringing in his ears. An execution? What could he possibly do to deserve an execution?

John's father clears his throat, quieting the room. "Did you see who his captors were?" he asks. Rose looks reluctant to answer, which just worries John further. Shouldn’t she be eagerly giving up that information, so they’d have a chance at saving him? 

But finally, she speaks. “I worry if I tell you, then in order to circumvent this from occurring, you may make… rash actions, which will only serve to cause it in the first place. I’d rather not be the cause of this happening, as I’m sure you can understand.”

“We will make a decision once we have the proper information.”

Rose nods, though she’s hesitant. “They were… flying the Derse colors,” she says softly. “Over the execution.”

John's heart sinks. Derse and Prospit had been in an unsteady alliance from the time he was young, but he had been forced to read enough history books for his lessons to know that peace was hardly the norm. There were countless years of bad blood between the two kingdoms; it isn't surprising that the alliance would have reason to break in the foreseeable future. 

But he knows where this is headed, and he knows why Rose is suddenly hesitant to meet anyone's gaze. She's a Dersite by blood, though she had been moved to Prospit at a young age due to her abilities - the Prospitian throne took kindly to those who could see in the future, despite their magical status, whereas Derse treated them like any other witch. She was safer here, but he knows that her Dersite blood is going to make her a target now, along with Dave. 

"So Derse is going to break our alliance?" John hears his father ask, somehow maintaining his usual levels of professionalism.

"That or they retaliate against Prospit doing the same," Rose says softly. "Which is why I would advise you to take defensive measure rather than offensive-"

"We will decide how to deal with this information on our own, thank you." John glances back to see his father is standing now, expression solemn. "And I believe you have made it clear in the past that you need your rest after your readings, am I correct? I'm sure Knight Strider would be happy to see you back to your room."

John hears the clunking of armor as Dave walks over to where Rose is slumped, and as the knight passes, he doesn't meet John's eyes.

"Thank you, Dave," Rose says softly, taking an offered arm to pull herself to her feet. Not another word passes between them, and the room is silent until they're out the door and out of sight.

Then all hell breaks loose. 

Debates immediately spark - whether it would be wise to issue a declaration of war to preempt the Dersite betrayal, how to handle John's security detail in the future. 

"Knight Strider is from Derse, after all," says one of the advisers, raising his voice among the others. "He could very well turn out to be the prince's downfall!"

John stiffens at that. "No! Dave would never..." But his voice is lost among the din, and he quickly realizes that, though it might be his life at stake here, nobody is particularly interested in hearing his input. 

It takes several minutes for his father to quiet the room. "We will have time to discuss this later," he says sternly. "There is nothing to indicate that the seer's predictions will happen today, and in the meantime there are other matters to attend to. After all, you do still have your meeting with Lady Maryam today, John. It would be rude to cancel."

"Are you serious!?" John can't help but ask, gaping at his father in a way that he knows is very unprincely. "Rose just said I was going to die, and you want me to go on a _date_?"

"Rose made a prediction which is not assured to happen," his father says, "and she's traveled quite a ways to meet with you today. I'm sure you must be scared, but we can't neglect our duties out of fear. Do you understand?"

An overdramatic sigh. "Yes, Dad."

"Come on, let's get you ready." His father motions him out the door, and John follows, more than happy to leave the court advisers behind.

Once he's sure they're out of earshot, John whispers - "You're not going to actually declare war on Derse, are you?"

"No, most probably not. Rose was correct - calling for war is only going to ask that the visions she saw become true."

John relaxes at that. "So... that means that Dave will still be allowed to guard me?"

A heavy sigh. "I'm afraid they have a point. While I know that you and Dave are close, allowing somebody with his heritage to be so close to you is... foolish."

"Dave would never-"

"I'm sure he wouldn't," John's father interjects. "And the moment we are sure this crisis has been averted, I promise that things will return to normal. But we have to take every precaution in order to ensure your safety. Surely you understand."

John's shoulders slump at the thought of being unable to see his best friend for an indeterminate amount of time. "Fine. Can I talk to Rose, at least? I mean, she told you about it so obviously she's not trying to kill me..."

They stop in front of John's room, the king's mouth thinning to a line as he thinks. "I will consider it," he says. "But I can make no promises."

"But Dad-"

"And in the meantime, you have a date to get ready for, don't you?" He pats John on the back, nudging him inside. "Go freshen up. It's rude to keep a lady waiting."

In the end, John determines that Kanaya is about the same as all of the other girls he's been forced to talk to - nice enough, but not really interesting. She was pretty, sure, but she had a tendency to ramble, and if John was being honest, he had the feeling that she was forced to be there as much as he was. She had smiled and done all the courtesies, but at no point did he feel as though she was particularly interested in anything he had to say.

It comes as a relief when he can kiss her hand and head back to his quarters, done with his responsibilities for the day.

Much to his surprise, Dave's waiting for him by the time he gets there, the knight’s armor clinking as he stands at attention.

"How'd your date go?" he asks, a weird tone to his voice.

"Same as the rest of the dates have gone," John says with a shrug. "She wasn't interested in me and I'm already interested in somebody else, so."

"Still not going to tell me who that is?" Dave asks. 

John just grins at him. "Nah. It's much more fun to see you squirm."

"Is it somebody I know, though? Like, come on John, you got to give me clues here."

John rolls his eyes - this has been a long-standing issue between the two of them. "No clues," he reiterates. "And anyways, why are you here? Dad said you'd be taken off of my security detail, so I thought..."

Dave's entire body tightens at that. "Yeah, that's still a thing that's happening. As of tomorrow, I'm no longer allowed in this entire wing of the castle and I'm not allowed to know anything about your movements or nothing. But he said I could see you today. For a goodbye."

John feels like somebody knocked the wind out of him. "Oh," he says. "Yeah. Well, at least he's doing that? Rather than just... splitting us up all the sudden. Do I get a goodbye with Rose too?"

Dave shrugs. "Dunno. They're still talking about whether or not I'll even be allowed to see Rose anymore. Like, 'cause we're both from Derse we may start to spontaneously conspire against the crown if we end up in the same room."

"That's dumb," John says, frowning.

"Don't have to tell me that." Dave shakes his head. “Anyways, I guess this is the part where I tell you to take care of yourself. Try not to embarrass yourself without my guidance; know it’s gonna be hard, getting by without your most trusted adviser, basically like they’ve pulled the rug out from under you.” Dave wraps his arm around John’s shoulder, making a vague gesture with his other hand. John covers his mouth to hide his smile. “But any time you get in a situation, just think to yourself WWDD - What Would Dave Do? And you’ll never be as suave or chivalrous as me, but it’ll at least get you started down the right path.”

“Yeah, right,” John says, biting back a snort of laughter, elbowing Dave in the side. “I should be more worried about you - can you even take care of yourself without me or Rose around?”

“Hey, I’m a knight, remember? Rose is gonna be the one lost without me. You’ll find her wandering down this hall, looking all helpless and stuff, crying about how I’m not there.”

John rolls his eyes. “More like you’re going to get lost on your way to the bathroom.”

“That only happened once, and I was twelve,” Dave says. “And anyways, cut me some slack, your castle is giant. Anyone’d get lost their first time here.” 

John laughs, leaning into the knight a little more. “I just hope they get this whatever with Derse sorted out soon,” he says. “It’s going to be really boring without you. Most of the other knights are too old, and they don’t like being pranked!”

“You say that like I invite pranks to me like a priest trying to convert followers. ‘Yes, please come to me all buckets of water, dump yourselves upon my head, not like I needed dry hair today.’”

“OK, maybe you don’t _like_ being pranked, but you’re a good sport about it! They just sort of glower and ignore me. Or tell my dad.” John makes a face. “Well, whatever. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“I should be saying that about you,” Dave says. “I’m supposed to be your protector and all. Don’t make me fail at my job when I’m not there to do it. Nothing dangerous, OK?”

“Fine, if you insist, I guess I _won’t_ go throwing myself into lion pits.” 

“Or at least put on a helmet first.”

John snorts in laughter, pulling Dave into a proper hug, resting his head lightly against his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you,” he says. 

Dave’s quiet for a moment, and John can feel the knight hold his arms out, unsure what to do with them, before he finally returns the hug. “Yeah. Me too.”

They stay like that for a moment, silent, before the sound of footsteps echos from down the opposite hall causes them to quickly step away from each other, as though there’s something to hide. John finds himself puzzling over it - what would be so bad about somebody catching him hugging a friend? But the captain of the guard comes into sight before he can reach a conclusion, and both of them correct their posture as he stops in front of them. 

“There you are, Strider,” the captain says, voice gruff. “I’ve been looking for you. We need to go over some of the details of your reassignment.”

Dave casts a quick look back at John, clearly not eager to leave, but with a pointed cough from the older knight, he gives a quick nod. “Yeah. Right, sir. What about them?”

“Follow me.” And the captain begins to walk off, clearly indicating that Dave should follow. 

Dave gives another quick glance back at John before committing to a quick bow, murmuring something along the lines of “it’s been a pleasure working with you” - John doesn’t quite catch it, but it’s something official, proper, and completely unlike Dave. 

He can only offer a half-hearted “bye,” in response, giving a small wave as Dave follows his superior down the hallway, armor clinking with every step 

John ends up staying in the hallway in front of his room long after the knight is out of sight, as though he’s expecting Dave to come running back so they can spend another couple of hours together, or in case Rose might come along to keep him company instead. Neither happen. A few of the castle’s workers pass by, giving him odd looks as they do. It’s about half an hour later when another knight comes by - a knight who isn’t Dave, who has thoroughly Prospitian roots. He’s short, a bit stocky, and has a mass of angry hair above his angry-looking face.

John decides to dislike him on principal, and retreats into his room without another word, leaving his replacement knight to stand guard at a closed door. . 

John’s room is nice and spacious, fit for a prince. His bed is large enough to fit four people, but he’s the only one sleeping there most nights. He has the walls decorated with paintings from his favorite stories when he was younger, heroic knights doing daring and probably physically impossible deeds. He’s outgrown the stories by now, but he doesn’t have the heart to take the paintings down - they’re simply part of his room by now, and it’d feel empty without them. 

He has a few other things lying around - a shitty self-portrait of Dave, a few knitted things from Rose, and a pendant that had come from Jade, thanks to Dave. It was said to have some sort of magical properties that would keep him safe, but John’s never sensed any real magic off of it - he’s pretty sure it’s just a pendant. 

“Still, guess it can’t hurt,” he murmurs to himself, reaching out to the dresser its sitting on and slipping it onto his neck. If Derse was plotting against him, then he’d need every bit of protection he had, even if it was just a bunch of fake magic. 

With a heavy sigh, John closes the curtains and flops back onto his bed, miserable. His birthday is in less than a month, and at this rate, he isn’t going to be able to spend it with anybody who matters. There will be a huge party, sure, full of people he doesn’t care about pretending like they care about him.

It’s going to be awful.

John’s content to stew in his misery for a bit, maybe punch his pillow once he’s angry enough, but he’s snapped out of his thoughts by a scratching sound at his window. 

Normally he wouldn’t be concerned by it. The window is far off the ground, accessible only to things that can fly, but the sudden suspicions around Derse have him worried. He sits up and waits again, the scratching becoming louder, but with the curtains in the way, he can’t see who’s there. 

He slowly slides off of the bed, reaching over for the nearest blunt object he can find - a hammer he had used to help him nail up one of the paintings that had fallen recently. He creeps up to the window again, hammer at the ready, heart pounding. 

_It’s probably just a bird,_ he tells himself, trying to steady his hands. Maybe one of the crows that follows Dave around has decided to pester him instead. It’s probably nothing. 

_But what if it’s not?_

He takes in a deep breath and pulls back the curtains.


End file.
